Some people take coals to Newcastle, others take snow to the Eskimos, but actress Caroline Blakiston bravely chose to take Chekhov to Russia.
For her troubles, after playing Charlotta in two different productions of The Cherry Orchard, first in Chekhov's native province in 1991 and later in the Moscow Arts Theatre in 1992, she won a Golden Globe for her special contribution to Russian theatre. But what she also won was a collection of priceless personal anecdotes which enabled her to compile this one-woman show first seen at Jermyn Street in 1997.
Her stories cover the meteorological shock of sub-zero temperatures, as well as the culture shock of armed guards and interpreters working for her round the clock - not to mention an inevitable initiation into arcane vodka rituals. But the bulk of Blakiston's time seems spent rehearsing with Stalinist directors issuing unreasonable and unperformable commandments. Worst of all was what she thought to be a first-night party, but which turned out to be a "critics' forum" in which the cast and production team are forced to listen in silence to critics discussing their performance.
In many ways, Blakiston's stories are as inconsequential as a stranger's holiday snaps. But there is also something Chekhovian about this inconsequentiality - revealing much about her and the Russian people she plainly adores. Tales about sitting in every seat in the vicinity of Chekhov's at his local theatre reveal a quaintly childlike innocence. Meanwhile, the epic funeral of a company member of whom she knew little comes to embody her sadness at leaving a country she hadn't realised she'd fallen in love with.
From the opening striptease demonstrating how long it takes Russians to remove their thermals, this is an entirely ingenuous evening's entertainment. Blakiston uses only a small collection of everyday props and plays sound effects recorded in situ on a Dictaphone. With posters falling off the walls and her tape machine cueing-up haphazardly, Blakiston is almost wilfully self-effacing. But there are also moments of homespun wit and fond observation. Relying on warmth and openness rather than conceit and artifice, she achieves what Napoleon and Hitler failed to do with far greater resources before her: conquer Moscow.
Black Bread And Cucumber
